<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Shadow On The White Sheet by addictedtogaymovies</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498859">The Shadow On The White Sheet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtogaymovies/pseuds/addictedtogaymovies'>addictedtogaymovies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>God's Own Country, God's Own Country (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Death, Fear of losing, Fluff, Grief, Love, M/M, Parenthood, Sadness, Suffering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedtogaymovies/pseuds/addictedtogaymovies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny experiences a hellish week while Gheorghe fights for life and death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deirdre Saxby &amp; Johnny Saxby, Gheorghe Ionescu/Johnny Saxby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Shadow On The White Sheet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The whole nightmare began with a sentence of a woman he did not know, on the phone: "Good day. Do you know Gheorghe Ionescu?"</p><p>Johnny might have thought he'd had the worst experiences of his life by now. The bicycle accident he had as a child that caused him to break his left arm, his mother's departure, even though he does not remember exactly, Martin's first stroke. But no, it was as if he had never felt the helplessness he felt now in any of them. The bicycle was just an echoing pain in his body. When his mother left, he did not even know what this meant, and when he was old enough to understand, he became almost indifferent, except for the lack of a mother he felt at some moments. When Martin's first stroke, Johnny almost thought he would lose himself, but fortunately the doctor saved him from this torment with that comforting sentence: "Don't worry, it's not life-threatening."</p><p>Whereas whatever he was experiencing now, it was nothing like any of them. He was sure to have a pain that spread throughout his body. A fever that spreads to his chest. Just like how was it with mother, he wanted to be lucky enough to never get the point. Worst of all, for Gheorghe, none of the doctors had made that promising sentence.</p><p>"The driver who lost control unfortunately swerved off the road and entered the opposite lane and hit your truck with great speed at an angle just perpendicular to the driver's seat." The police officer paused here a bit. “This is why Mr. Ionescu has suffered such heavy damage. I am very sorry."</p><p>He listened to what the police officer telling to Johnny while showing the pictures of the van that had turned into a scrap, as a big humming sound pierced  his ears inside his head. What was all this? How could it all happen so quickly? When he left the house with Deirdre upon the news of the accident he received from the hospital, their arrival here, before he even knew where and what condition Gheorghe was in, they were suddenly surrounded by police officers while standing there with a great pain in his heart ... could it happen? The photograph of this pickup truck, in which it seemed almost impossible for a human to survive, how could it be now the reality of his Gheorghe? How could he have something in common with what happened this morning with the photograph shown to him?</p><p>
  <em>"You will forgive me when I return." Gheorghe smiled wickedly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Johnny, who was on his temper this morning, couldn't see his smile because he was busy sweeping the shit from the floor of the barn like a big spoiled kid. "Aye, whatever."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gheorghe had known him well enough at the end of almost half a year to distinguish between Johnny's real mood and which was coquetry. This morning he was just an asshole. So he whispered a little closer to Johnny, who was turned back, in a position where he could feel his breath on his neck. "See you when I return." And he walked away with a vague kiss on his neck. Although he hadn't seen it, he knew Johnny's crooked smile was on his face. Johnny knew too. How lucky he is, too. He even knew so well that even petty stupidities could turn them into a cause of quarrel just because moments of reconciliation were better than ever. He didn't know what Gheorghe to do when he returned, but even now he was grateful that Gheorghe went alone to get the necessary supplies, just because he was too lazy to land in that city.</em>
</p><p>Johnny's mind was covered in such a huge fog that it took him some time to stop talking and realize that the corridor they left that room with desperation was the corridor they had crossed with Gheorghe just six months ago when Martin fell ill. He could not react, speak, not give a single answer to what was asked, could not understand his surroundings, and most importantly, he could not believe how his legs could still carry him. When they finally arrived at the door of the intensive care unit at the direction of the nurse and some explanations were made that he could not comprehend due to the hum in his brain, the clothes described as “the patient's belongings” were given to Johnny: A red jumper with a little blood and dirt and was cut right in the middle of the chest to facilitate the activity during the first intervention, Johnny seemed he is starting to understand the truth.</p><p>…</p><p>"Eat something. Then you should get some sleep, lad. If you're going to spend the night there again, you'd better get up a little. "</p><p>Johnny was too distracted to notice the moment of Deirdre's arrival, standing at the door of his room with a tray in his hand. He didn't realize how long he had been lying in this bed in the embryo position until she got into the room. Johnny replied her as she put the tray with something like a sandwich on the bedside table in the dim room. "I should have been there already." Deirde seemed to want to keep the tail upright. "So, you know better than all those doctors and nurses?"</p><p>"Every time dad had a stroke, you waited next to him until morning."</p><p>She paused for a moment, not knowing what to do in the face of the weight of this sentence. Johnny didn't say this sentence to reciprocate or to insist or fight. On the contrary, he said this in such a childish, desperate tone that his voice was overwhelmed.</p><p>Deirdre was too old and tired to be able to keep his family vigorous alone through these seven hellish days. Worse, a truth emerged that she had not even confessed to himself for so many months. No, she was not only trying to keep her family strong at home, but she was struggling with the pain of that a part of her family who is  now fighting in the hospital. She went gently on the bed and sat at his toes. The silence that spread throughout the room was too heavy. But still, sometimes sharing a silence was a better way of consolation than making nonsense sentences. The room was getting darker and darker. She was even pleased that she did not turn on the light when he entered the room. The red jumper, faintly visible next to Johnny's pillow, tormented her every time she entered this room.</p><p>One of the most effective ways to deal with great pain was to cling to the hustle and bustle of everyday life. This was what happened when Martin had a second stroke. <em>Cows will need their teas, like</em>. Now both seemed to be powered by this.</p><p>"Your father still hasn't slept either."</p><p>"Hmm." A short silence. He added for just to being have said something. "If it was possible, he would come to the hospital and say he wanted to see him, he said this morning."</p><p>She sighed in the deep. "Not necessary. He can see him when he comes home anyway. "</p><p>Deirdre has never been like the lovely grandmothers in movies or fairy tales. She knew this very well too. So after all these years she could no longer give ceremonial consolation to this young man, who was almost a second son rather than a grandchild. But even with just this last sentence, she knew there was hope for Johnny, who was lying in bed miserable, and even in this dark room she could feel the lines on his face softening.</p><p>Deirde got up suddenly, as if trying to disperse the weight that had filled the room. "Lets. Try to eat a little bit. Then get ready. We'll leave the house in an hour. " When she was leaving, he turned on the light of the room and forced his grandson to get out of bed.</p><p>Johnny straightened up slowly, motivated to get to the hospital as soon as possible, if not just for a meal. He looked desperately at the sandwich on the nightstand. The first days were also very difficult. But as the days passed, and Gheorghe slept there without a real meal in his stomach, eating turned into a torture for Johnny. He knew that the more he didn't eat, the weaker he was. But every bite he threw into his mouth was growing in his mouth with a sneaky guilt, making him nauseous. Still, with his fingers, he ripped a piece of the sandwich and put it to his mouth. He was trying to mentally prepare himself for what he would see in about an hour. He had recovered from the shock of the first day, but he was still in a terrifying alarm as he saw that the resemblance between the dark man lying in the white sheets and the man he was lying in the bed on the morning of the accident diminished.</p><p>He shook his head as if trying to drive away thoughts. He wouldn't be able to finish the sandwich anyway. He turned to his wardrobe to put on the first clothes he found.</p><p>…</p><p>Johnny could not remember how long they waited with the cut, red jumper they gave him, and the jumper that still seemed to hold Gheorghe's warmth. The memory of the first day was fragmentary or even largely missing for Johnny. According to what Deirdre said later, they were not allowed to see Gheorghe until the first twenty-four hours. He needed some time to be intubated, his body to being used to the ventilation device and the sedation medication given to regulate his breathing. All this had no equivalent for Johnny. And no for Gheorghe either, it could not be, it should not have been. Until he saw Gheorghe in that bed, Johnny could not realize that this man they were talking about was his Gheorghe, who smells like cigarettes and wood and gave life to lambs with his skillful hands.</p><p>"The second bed from the left," the nurse had said, smiling insensively and sincerely at Johnny, who was wearing an apron, a mask, and a cap for the intensive care visit.</p><p>He felt his knees weaken as he went towards the beds separated from the sheet with screens. The peculiar medicinal smell of the place mixed with the sounds of the appliance rising from all sides and made Johnny's dizzy. When he barely reached the "second from left" bed, he took a deep breath and quickly moved to the other side of the screen. He could not grasp the reality in the first seconds. He got a little closer. Gheorghe lay like a shadow among the white sheets. The beautiful color of his skin had been replaced by a pale gray. It felt as if his eyelids were sweaty a little moist, and his beards had grown too long for a day. But he mainly lost his mind when he looked under his nose. Gheorghe's tiny, gentle mouth was parted by the invasion of the intubation tube. Johnny wanted to let go and shout. “What are you talking about, for God's sake? Get up, let's go home. "</p><p>Knowing he could not say anything, he touched his right hand as if to make him feel like he was there. It was not as hot as he expected, but not as cold as he feared. Gheorghe did not react at all. He was in a deep sleep. Johnny could feel his eyes burning, a burning sensation in his throat. He squeezed his hand a little. Gheorghe did not react again. Johnny bowed his head as if trying to send back the accumulated tears and watched the ceiling for several seconds. When he looked back at Gheorghe, he touched the sheet on his chest with one hand still holding his hand. He just wanted to look where he slept on the night before. When he lowered the chador, he realized that much more than the scratches and wounds he had not admitted to himself that he had just seen on his face covered Gheorhe's slowly rising, hairy chest.</p><p>After this moment, Johnny wasn't there. The only thing he remembered about this was that this image of Gheorghe captured his mind during his endless nightmares that night.</p><p>...</p><p>Deirde and Johnny sat in the back seat, watching the world in silence through two separate windows, as the yellow headlights of the taxi pierced the dark road. Winter was approaching, and it was getting dark so early that Johnny's depressed and hopelessness was heightened. It was getting harder and harder to take his body, now almost a dead body, out of the taxi and drag him to the hospital under the gently drizzling wind and rain.</p><p>He stayed away from the crowd waiting for the intensive care visit to begin. In fact, waiting for a week with people who were experiencing the same pain and fear made him forget his terrible loneliness. But day by day his uneasiness grew. He did not want to see his own misery in the faces of those people today. So he offered Deirdre to go directly to see the doctor first. Routine briefings before or after each visit. This was the description of the procedure. For Johnny, every word that would come out of the doctor's mouth was the verdicts that let him know the fate of his life. Johnny is in front of Deirde, and they slowly entered the doctor's room. This woman in her forties, who was busy with her files at the time, almost became a mother to Johnny as much as she had been a doctor to Gheorghe over the past week. Seeing the relatives of the patients, the doctor's face seemed to light up. He called out, trying to hide a little bit of his smile.</p><p>“Oh please sit down. I have good news today.”</p><p>It seemed like the time to forgive Gheorghe has finally come.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>